Chapter 29 - The Longest Night
Mara hated hospitals.
She hated the fluorescent lights.
She hated vending-machine coffee.
She hated the careful expressions doctors used before delivering information.
Most of all, she hated seeing Graham’s blood on her coat.
At 1:14 a.m., the trauma surgeon entered the waiting room.
Everyone stood.
Elaine grabbed Arthur’s hand.
Mara couldn't speak.
The surgeon smiled.
“He’s going to be okay.”
The room collapsed into relief.
Elaine sobbed against Arthur.
Owen hugged Claire.
Mara covered her face.
“The bullet fragment entered beneath the lower ribs,” the surgeon explained. “It missed the liver by less than an inch. We removed it. There was internal bleeding, but we controlled it.”
“When can I see him?” Mara asked.
“Soon.”
“Now?”
The surgeon almost smiled.
“Soon.”
Twenty minutes later, Mara entered Graham’s room.
He looked pale.
Exhausted.
Alive.
His eyes opened.
“Hi.”
Mara walked to the bed.
Then slapped his shoulder.
“Ow.”
“You deserved that.”
“I was shot.”
“You walked into a criminal warehouse.”
“With federal agents.”
“You got shot.”
“Technically ricocheted.”
She leaned down and kissed him.
Not gently.
Not cautiously.
Graham’s hand rose weakly to the back of her neck.
When she pulled away, his eyes were wet.
“Was that because I survived?”
“That was because if you ever do something that stupid again, I want you to remember what you’ll lose.”
He studied her.
“Mara.”
“No dramatic speeches.”
“I love you.”
She stopped.
Graham looked almost frightened.
More frightened than he had while facing Victor Kane.
“I should've said it on New Year’s Eve.”
Mara’s anger disappeared.
He continued.
“I loved this family before I understood what family was. And somewhere between that bakery and your father’s workshop, I realized I love you differently.”
Mara took his hand.
“You have terrible timing.”
“I was unconscious earlier.”
She laughed through tears.
“I love you too.”
Graham closed his eyes.
“Good.”
“Don't go to sleep!”
He opened them again.
“I’m medically sedated, Mara.”
“Oh.”
“Still bossy.”
Outside the hospital room, Arthur stood in the hallway.
He had heard enough.
Elaine took his arm.
“You okay?”
Arthur wiped his eyes.
“Never better.”
By morning, news outlets across Michigan carried the story.
Victor Kane arrested.
Northstar executives questioned.
Municipal contracts frozen.
Federal prosecutors announced investigations spanning Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, and Ohio.
Richard Sterling, facing fraud charges of his own, agreed to cooperate.
Leonard Price survived.
Most importantly, federal investigators began searching for every surviving teenager from the forty-seven names Judith Harper had preserved.
Daniel Mercer visited Graham two days later.
He stood awkwardly beside the hospital bed.
“You always were hard to kill.”
Graham smiled.
“You always were ugly.”
Daniel laughed.
Then became serious.
“They found nine more.”
“Survivors?”
Daniel nodded.
“One guy owns a plumbing company in Ohio. Another became a school counselor.”
Graham looked toward the snowy window.
“For years I thought surviving meant leaving everything behind.”
Daniel sat.
“Maybe surviving means going back for the others.”
That sentence stayed with Graham.
Three days later, Arthur brought something to the hospital.
The old ladder rung.
Burned black at one end.
Arthur placed it on the table.
“Fire department said I could keep it.”
Graham touched the wood.
“What are you going to do with it?”
Arthur smiled.
“Nothing.”
Graham looked confused.
Arthur shook his head.
“I don't need it anymore.”
Thirty-two years Arthur had kept that ladder as punishment.
Then as memory.
Now he understood something different.
A man could learn from the past without living inside it.
Arthur picked up the rung.
“I think we build something new.”
Graham looked at him.
“With this?”
“No.”
May you like
Arthur smiled.
“With you.”
